


Constellation

by skitockså (Okumen)



Category: Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu | Legend of the Galactic Heroes
Genre: Consensual Somnophilia, Established Relationship, I absolutely wrote this instead of sleeping, M/M, Somnophilia, but it's a secret one, tho Julian probably knows even tho Yang doesn't know Julian knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28582080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okumen/pseuds/skitocks%C3%A5
Summary: Attenborough is in deep sleep, on his stomach, hugging a pillow and lightly snoring. He isn't covered by the blanket, and Yang realises that he's been hogging them for himself, leaving none for Attenborough. It's a good thing Attenborough doesn't get cold so easily, and that the ac makes the house a comfortable temperature even at night. Yang reaches out to run a hand through his juniors hair.
Relationships: Dusty Attenborough/Yang Wenli
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Constellation

**Author's Note:**

> Some nice, sweet YangAtten for the soul<3
> 
> This is another of those twitterfics I write https://twitter.com/tofinut/status/1346598628345970688
> 
> It ended up becoming a lot longer than I intended, and taking a lot more time than I planned.
> 
> When trying to figure out a title for this, I got "Constellation Prize" with Robin Bengtsson stuck in my head for ... /gestures/ ..reasons. And ended up with that title. Making up titles are just.... mh..yeah... And my cat tried to help me write a summary. So many ''0'' in there. Is he disappointed in my choice I wonder, he's walking all over things here, showing his tail up my face.

Yang is woken up by the sharp prick of claws on his chin. At first, it doesn't register in his mind that Admiral is stretched out right beside him, big body stretched along Yangs chest, tail lazily waving, paws kneading in content. Yang moves his head a bit, which offends the cat. Admiral stretches, toes spread out, and then the cat rolls onto its belly, gets on its feet, and saunters across the bed. Yang watches him go, sees the cat take a leap over the other body in the bed and Yang heard him land with a thump on the floor. There is the sound of paws on linoleum as the cat enters the hallway. Yang rests on his side for a few moments more, hearing the sound of the cat jumping up to the kitchen sink. Then Yang tunes out the cat, turns his attention instead to the man next to him.

Attenborough is in deep sleep, on his stomach, hugging a pillow and lightly snoring. He isn't covered by the blanket, and Yang realises that he's been hogging them for himself, leaving none for Attenborough. It's a good thing Attenborough doesn't get cold so easily, and that the ac makes the house a comfortable temperature even at night. Yang reaches out to run a hand through his juniors hair. In the first place, Attenborough was staying over because the ac had flipped out in his own housing, an apartment complex where lower-ranked officers lodged. Yang inched closer to place a kiss against Attenboroughs forehead. Attenborough was supposed to be sleeping on the sofa, but since Julian was at a birthday sleep-over at a friends, he had found his way into Yangs bed instead. Yang remembers big pleading eyes and the need to only be asked once.

Untangling himself from the blanket as best he could, leaving it somehow caught around his chest by the time he gives up on untangling himself entirely, Yang crawls the last bit over to straddle Attenborough. The blanket follow, lopsidedly covering a part of Attenboroughs back. Yang brushes a hand along Attenboroughs thigh, watching the fabric of his pajama trousers bunch up with the drag of his touch trailing its way upward. Attenborough shifts a little underneath him, releasing a slow breath. The words "you can du anything you want with me, anytime you like," echoes in his mind, accompanied by the image of Attenborough spread out on a bunk bed light-years away, years in the past. When Yang carefully coaxes Attenborough onto his back, the younger man groans, shifts a little into a more comfortable position. Though the man is still asleep, Attenborough allows Yang to pry away the pillow in his arms. It lets Yang properly ser Attenboroughs face, the ceases from the pillow on his cheek, the freckles like smatterings of stars on his skin. Yang brushes his thumb along Attenboroughs lower lip, trails the constellations he has mapped out there during the time they have known each other. Attenboroughs breathing is slow and steady. Yang can feel his own catch in his throat. He remembers a night when they had been drunk, Attenborough in his third year at the officers academy, Yang preparing to ship out the morning after next. Yang had drawn on Attenboroughs face, marking out the constellations that he found and regaling Attenborough with the myths different cultures that the people of Earth had had regarding them. Yang had kissed Polaris, near Attenboroughs mouth, had laughed awkwardly at the startled expression he recieved, had drowned in the first proper kiss that they ever shared. Yang draws his finger over Polaris now, smiles fondly at the memory for a while, until Attenborough shifts in his sleep.

He moves away from Attenboroughs hips, settle beside him on his knees and toes, and Yang carefully edges down Attenboroughs trousers until they get stuck around his ankles. Yang lifts them up, and slowly crawls in to sit between them. Yangs feet rests on either side of Attenboroughs waist, and Attenboroughs legs rests on Yangs shoulders.

With careful fingers and his eyes on his task, Yang searches out Attenboroughs ring of muscles. The entrance is still relaxed, from sleep and from use only a few hours ago, and it's easy to slip a finger inside. He doesn't touch Attenboroughs cock, but he watches with one eye as it twitches slightly, when Yang brushes his finger along the inside wall of Attenboroughs hole. Yang knows he isn't particularily good with his fingers, or with his cock, for that matter, but Attenborough never complains about it, even humours him with his bodys reactions, and the sounds that he makes. Even when he's asleep. Yang doesn't actually need to prepared Attenborough for long, but he keeps stroking his insides nonetheless. It's a sight, to see Attenborough tritch and gently writhe, it's a treat, to hear him quietly whimper and moan. It's unashamed, unrestrained, and completely honest. It's not much different from the way Attenborough would react if he were awake, the only thing different is the lack of Yangs name on his lips. It's embarrassing, Yang thinks, but it also makes him happy, because it's a confirmation to Attenboroughs assurance that he never fakes it, when he's with Yang. It's something that, despite the years, Yang has a hard time believing, because it's such a foreign concept to him. That anyone would enjoy so earnestly being with him, and without growing bored. Attenborough is a sweet young man, despite his troublemaking ways. Yang basks in the warmth of knowing he's adored, basks in the adoration that he in turn feels toward Attenborough, and drinks in the sight and the sounds that Attenborough produce. He's sweet, like a tea with just the right amount of sugar in it, and Yang is happy that he can make him feel good.

Yang is drawn out of his thoughts, his reminiscing, as he sees Attenboroughs chest rise, his back bending in a curve, and there is a soft cry as Attenborough spurts thick strings of white from his cock and onto his shivering stomach. Yang keeps caressing Attenboroughs insides as Attenboroughs body shakes with the orgasm, keeps caressing him a while longer as it ebbs out, leaving Attenborough limp. Yang pulls his own cock free of his pajamas. There is a large wet spot on the fabric, and Yangs cock is hard and heavy in his hand.

There are still unused condoms laying discarded in the bed, he knows, and Yang fumbles around until he manages to find one. Attenborough groans, as his body has nearly been folded in half with how far Yang had to reach. Yang brushes a hand along Attenboroughs cheek, his jaw, his throat, lets his touch longer on Gemini on his collarbone. Then he settled back once more, and he gives Attenboroughs cock one gentle stroke. Attenborough moans, his voice a bit hoarse. Yang lets his breath calm, as he watches Attenborough settle back down into his deep sleep.

The act of putting condoms on has never been something Yang is skilled at. It takes several minutes to get it properly settled and rolled out, but eventually, finally, it's in place, and Yang can let out a sigh of relief to be done with it. He turns his attention back to Attenborough, and sees a lopsidedly smile and gleaming eyes. Yang feels his cheeks heat up with embarrassment at having been seen struggling with something so innocuous as a condom, but the smile is reassuring. "G'mornin, sir," Attenborough says, his voice raspy with sleep. Yang reflexively casts a glance at the cock on the bedside table, and its sharp green telling him that it was still 04:09. Yang runs a hand along Attenboroughs thigh, grazes an old scar, and enjoys the way Attenborough draws in a sharp breath, only to release it slowly, with a bit of a shiver in it. "It's still early," he assures the younger man. "Go back to sleep." Attenborough hums, a slow, tired sound. "And you're awake. 30 hour time zone messed with your internal clock, sir?" Yang smiles. His fingers still trails along Attenboroughs skin." I'll settle back in with this planets hours soon enough. You rest, Attenborough." Attenborough hums again, slower this time. "You're not going to fuck me until I am, are you?" Yang laughs, quietly. "You can return the favour in the morning. Ride me awake, see how long it will take before I react." Attenborough grins a toothy, lazy smile. He runs a hand through already messy hair. "I'd like that." Yang reaches out, catches his hand, and pulls it near so he can kiss Pisces on Attenboroughs knuckles. Attenborough laces his fingers with Yangs, to lightly squeeze his hand. Not long after he released his grip and settled it back near his head, Attenborough is asleep once more. Yang smiles to himself, as he brushes a thumb over one of Attenboroughs hip bones. He waits a while longer, listening to Attenboroughs deep, slow breaths.

It's inappropriate to not use any proper lubrication, but Yang is pretty sure that the bottle rolled off the bed last night, and he knows that Attenborough won't really mind, when he doesn't have work in the morning and already has been worked open before. The only thing Yang can use to make it a little bit slippery is by wiping up the cum from Attenboroughs stomach, to smear on his cock. He also catches Attenboroughs cock in hand, stroking the length a few times to collect leftovers drops and the sheen of newly released precum. Attenborough whimpers, and his stomach shivers when Yangs knuckles brush against his skin. It's not much, but it's better than nothing, and works well enough in this situation. Yang slips his fingers back inside Attenborough for a few moments, strokes him clumsily as he lines his cock up with the puckered entrance. He draws his fingers back out, and he watches, enraptured, as his cock slides inside with little effort. Attenborough makes a soft, quivering sound, a shaking moan. Yang groans at the feeling of being engulfed. Yang strokes Attenboroughs thigh to comfort him, and stays still until Attenboroughs body is once more completely relaxed. Then Yang pulls back out, and slowly slides back inside. He never fully pulls out, not on purpose, anyway, and he ends up leaning further and further forward, dragging Attenboroughs legs forward with him until he's once more half bent together, and Yang is gasping against the stars on his chest. Yang is gasping, moaning at the way Attenboroughs body is clamping down on him, whimpering at the way Attenborough is whimpering and twitching, his voice thick with arousal even in his sleep.

The heat building in Yangs belly is simmering, and Yang finds Attenboroughs body with his arms, pulls him into an embrace, gasps his name directly in his ear. Attenborough really is bent in half, then, his thighs pressing against his chest, his cock rubbing between them. Attenboroughs arms grasp at Yang, holds him in return, and when he gasps out, "Ya--sir--" Yang wonders whenhHe woke up, but that doesn't matter, really. But if he's awake, there is no need for Yang to hold back.

They're already pressed into the matress, and now Yang puts his whole weight into Attenborough, pushes him into the matress as deep as he can as he thrusts more firmly than before. At the new angle Yang finally seems to find Attenboroughs sweet spot - Yang never did have a good sense of direction and it translated over to him being bad at finding Attenboroughs prostate - given the sudden, startled noise that Attenborough lets out with one of Yangs particular snaps of his hips. It is a good, nice sound of surprised bliss, drawn out of him a few more times until Yang seemed to once again loses the location. Still, Attenborough is clinging to Yang, body shivering against him. Yang detangles himself from Attenboroughs grip, and sits back up while keeping Attenborough pressed to the matress. He wants to watch him. Attenboroughs glazed-over gaze meets Yangs. His lips are slightly parted, and a little swollen. Yang grasps at Attenboroughs hips, where he finds good hold and purchase. He thrusts, and the heat in his belly in unbearable. He thrusts sharply, murmurs Attenboroughs name and hears his own as Attenborough pleads for more, for Yang to never stop- Never is a hard sell, but until they climax--

Yang reaches the edge when Attenboroughs pleas turns into indistinguishable sounds, as he's unable to keep control of his tongue. The orgasm isn't sudden, but it is nonetheless an explosion, temporarily making Yangs vision go white as he blindly thrusts. Attenboroughs hands are on his wrists, a solid support and firm presence. Yang releases Attenboroughs hips and instead finds his hands, xlasps them as he keeps thrusting even as the orgasm threatens to draw him into unconsciousness, even if only for a moment. Attenborough cholds his hands tightly, his whimpers encourages Yang to keep going as his sight returns, and he sees the flustered mess his junior is has become. Utterly adorable, incredibly hot. When he comes again, it is not silently. Yang l adores the sound, a hoarse cry tipped out of Attenboroughs throat, a sound that sends shivers down Yangs spine. He had thought that any cum he had, had already spilled, but with the way Attenboroughs body clamps down on his cock so tightly, Yang feels abother, though smaller, wave of pleasure rush over him, and he knows that the condom must be brimming. He finds himself once more against Attenboroughs chest, as he collapses on top of him, utterly spent. Attenborough laughs, hoarse, into Yangs ear. "I suppose I'm meant to sleep like this?" Attenborough asks, and Yang blushes. Attenboroughs legs are once again pressed up against his body, trapped in place by Yangs arms. "I can't really more right now.. Sorry, give me five minutes." Attenborough nuzzles Yangs hair with his nose, seemibgly not very bothered by what has to be an uncomfortable position. "Not five hours, then?" he teases. Yang feels his cheeks heat up even further. "Don't be mean, Attenborough." Attenborough laughs, the sound going right in Yangs ear and down his spine. And, judging by Attenboroughs whimper, into his cock, too. "I'd never be mean to you, Yang, sir," he murmurs. Yang enjoys the hand that has found its way into his hair. "Then I can use you as a matress to my hearts content?"

Attenboroughs fingers finds a knot in Yangs hair, which he carefully starts to untangle. He presses a kiss to the corner of Yangs eye, a soft, slow press of lips on skin. "Just for a little bit."

Yang basked in the after glow of his orgasm, wrapped in Attenboroughs slightly awkward embrace, where he easily fell back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Dusty definitely had to untangle himself on his own when Yang fell asleep, which Yang would only find out hours later when he wakes back up.
> 
> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
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